


Perks of Dating Sam Winchester #2 - Foot Rubs

by witchofletters



Series: Perks of Dating Sam Winchester [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchofletters/pseuds/witchofletters
Summary: Sam Winchester is a great boyfriend. Here's the proof.





	Perks of Dating Sam Winchester #2 - Foot Rubs

If people wore signs, mine would say, “Out of Order”. Running back and forth on the tiled floor behind the counter at work was more of a workout than a combination of Pilates and P90X and I was paying for it. Every inch of me, from the base of my skull, where a migraine was setting up shop, to the soles of my poor, tired tootsies was aching with exertion. 

Thankfully, as I marched in the door, cranky and hungry, my day got exponentially better. Flopped on the couch was my boyfriend. The sight of him was more than welcome; his long legs, tousled hair and every (delicious, chiseled) bit in between made my heart swell so that I hardly felt the pain in my body.

“Hey, sweetness,” he murmured softly, standing and stretching before pulling me into a warm embrace. I relaxed without effort and found Sam practically holding me upright. “Missed you,” he said into my hair, running one big hand up and down my back. “Clean lazy clothes in the dryer. It just buzzed a minute ago.” 

A weary but genuine smile spread over my face and bopped to the laundry room to pull on fresh sweats and a loose t-shirt. Whenever he had a chance, Sam did my laundry. I didn't mind. He did it better than my own mom, something to which she'd happily conceded upon seeing my new apartment and the color coordinated closet it now boasted, thanks to him. Neatly folded towels and properly paired socks were now a fixture in the apartment. Speaking of, a wicker basket sat atop the dryer, full neatly rolled colorful wool balls and I plucked one out, pulling it into two cozy socks. I slipped them on and padded back to the couch, taking up my place beside Sam.

He frowned and seized my ankle, tugging me around so my feet landed in his lap and my head landed with a muffled *thump* on the pillow at the other end of the sofa. In a fluid movement he tugged one sock off an aching foot and wrapped his big, warm hands around the arch, stroking his thumbs down the sole, gentle pressure in small circles. I flat out moaned at the sensation and Sam chuckled, a sweet sound deep in his chest. 

“Better, sweetness?” I groaned and tossed an arm over my eyes, pointing my toes and stretching. He laughed again, more a feeling that resonated between us than an actual sound. “Okay,” was all he said, long fingers pressing into the thick skin, smile evident in his voice. He tugged at my toes and I wiggled them in response. Sam rubbed his thumbs deep into the sore and tired tendons; one foot and then the other, making sure my socks were back on the other foot each time.

After he'd gotten both of the socks back on, he pulled the blanket (also freshly washed, as if he needed to be perfect-er) from the back of the couch and tossed it over us. He clicked on the most recent binge watch show on the ‘Flix and leaned back, my toes cozy warm and my heart as well.


End file.
